


Body Language

by spotified



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Basically two boys being soft, Fluff, Jae is soft, M/M, Or more like attempt at fluff, Wonpil is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spotified/pseuds/spotified
Summary: "There’s beauty and grace in the flaws of your face.”Sometimes, the things we hate about ourselves are the things people love about us.Or, Jae wonders how he got so lucky despite his imperfections.





	Body Language

**Author's Note:**

> another lame attempt at fluff.  
> lowkey inspired by accounts of jae talking about his eyes (which we love pls bby ; n ;)
> 
> enjoy! <3

 

Jae has a list of things he likes about himself, and an even longer list of things he doesn’t.

 

Growing up in America meant he was used to seeing people with big, beautiful eyes — the type that seems to resemble the vastness of the clear blue ocean that one cannot help but drown in them, or the green canopies of pine forests and suburban grasslands. These are the features he would so often see whenever he flips through a copy of the latest fashion magazine his sister bought, or the cosmetic advertisements lining up the brightly lit halls of their downtown LA mall.

 

His was nothing special.

 

Never had he heard compliments mentioning his eyes. They were more like punchlines, jokingly pointing out their small size, or how his pale Asian features are a stark contrast to the sun-kissed ones his friends have. He had become accustomed to people telling him “ _Hey Jae, can you open your eyes a little more?_ ”, which he would shrug off with a laugh. As the time passed by, it became easier to go along with his friends’ quips, that he would even make fun of himself, as self-deprecating as his humor could be.

And so, he hid them behind his thin-rimmed glasses, and when he decided to undergo a corrective surgery which meant he would not need aid for his eyesight, he grew his fringe, long enough to subtly cover his eyes.

 

There is also his face, or more like his _cheeks_.

 

He thinks having a bit of weight on his face isn’t entirely as bad, but every time he sees himself in the mirror, his gaze would wander to the prominent cheek pockets framing his features. He doesn’t have that perfectly chiseled jawline, or the high cheekbones people rave about, and when it’s all that you hear about regularly, Jae wonders why the cosmos failed to give him even just one model-esque characteristic when he hit puberty. After all, his face is nothing _too_ interesting to look at anyway, he believes.

Jae couldn’t avoid looking at himself, not when the small mirror sitting atop his sink is the first thing he sees every morning when he goes to wash his face, or the last one in the evening whenever he prepares for bed. But the full-length ones, he avoids like the plague.

With his long limbs and lithe body, he easily stands out in a crowd — quite literally. While he points out to himself that there is nothing wrong with it, the comparisons always seem to follow. _Why are your friends so athletic? You should stop playing video games all day!_ As much as he tried to build himself up through exercise, his body just seems to burn whatever he puts inside his mouth faster than his next craving. He eats, and eats, and eats even more, but his arms still look like uncooked spaghetti (his friend’s words, not his), while all the weight goes to his face.

So he does what he’s best at, and that is to hide. He covers himself up with clothes two sizes bigger than him, the ones that hang on his figure rather than cling on him. His tall and slender body is hidden beneath all the layers of his thick gray hoodie, warm and comfortable, but out of sight. He never wears muscle tees and goes to the beach wearing a long rash guard, anything in a seeming attempt to hide himself.

 

 

He has a lot of complexes, so subtly hidden behind his loud voice and even louder humor, that he couldn’t help but always wonder why Wonpil chose _him_.

 

 

Jae thinks Wonpil is the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on. He has his soft, expressive doe eyes, facial features that are perfect enough to be a model’s, and a figure that can easily fit in any clothes and make him look so effortlessly good. He is so wonderful and ethereal, a stark contrast to plain old him, that Jae believes he’s the luckiest man right now, to be even able to call Wonpil _his_.

 

“What are you thinking about?” he hears his boyfriend’s soft voice and it shakes him out of his reverie. The younger male was looking at him, the movie they decided to watch a lull in the background.

“You.”

Wonpil punches him playfully on his shoulder, but the soft pink coloring his cheeks didn’t escape Jae’s notice. He pulls the younger male closer to him, lips pressing on along his jaw and hair tickling his cheeks. The giggles that accompanied Wonpil were soft but low, and it makes Jae feel warm.

“You should get a haircut. Your fringe is getting longer,” his boyfriend murmurs, one hand reaching out to brush the hair away from his face. The smile on his face indicates his satisfaction at the sight before him. “Don’t cover your eyes, I love seeing them.”

“I’ll just wear glasses then.”

Wonpil feigns surprise, his voice almost challenging. “You wouldn’t dare to—”

“And what about it?”

 

Wonpil is well-aware of his boyfriend’s lack of fondness for his own features and even when he tries to reassure him, he would be so quick to brush off what he says. He would always be vocal about his deepset appreciation for his soft brown eyes, how they sparkle with genuine joy whenever he talks about the latest song he found that reminds him of Wonpil, or how easily he can tell when something is wrong with just one look at Jae's eyes, the emotions a haze. He would try to pull a puppy dog expression to get whatever he wants, and even though Wonpil will pretend that he hates it, his facade will always easily melt away. Jae thinks his are nothing special, but Wonpil thinks otherwise, especially when his eyes hold so much love for him. 

So when words fail him, he hopes his actions translate his message better. He finds himself brushing his fringe away to catch a glimpse of his eyes, a dainty finger tracing the outline of his soft eyebrows, down to his full lashes. He smiles up at him.

 

“Your eyes are beautiful.”

 

It was Jae’s turn to blush.

 

 

When the movie’s credits had rolled and it had become too warm to remain huddled on the couch, the two of them decided it was time for them to get something to eat. Despite his lackluster skills, Jae had volunteered to cook, that even if their shared meal is a simple plate of kimchi fried rice and slightly burnt bulgogi, Wonpil has never felt so happy and full.

Putting away their dishes is just as busy; they found themselves laughing along to the littlest distractions, splaying water onto each other and blowing dish soap bubbles all over their kitchen floor, only stopping when the roughhousing becomes too much that Wonpil slips on the wet floor and ends up on his bum. Of course, Jae laughs at his boyfriend’s misery for a few good seconds before helping him up from the floor and wrapping his arms around him.

He knows he will bruise in the next few days, but Wonpil couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh as he nuzzles himself onto Jae’s chest. He fits so perfectly in his arms and even if his friends like to make fun of his overall stature, they will never understand the feeling of the butterflies in his stomach heaving a storm at how easily Jae kisses the top of his head, or how he feels safe and sound being surrounded by him and his warmth. Because to Wonpil, being in his arms always feels like home.

 

 

That night, Wonpil lies in bed, eyes silently watching the sleeping figure beside him. He notes how fuller Jae’s cheeks are now compared to almost four months ago, when he had to be taken to a hospital after suffering from sickness. He remembers how worried he was, seeing how frail he had been after, but Jae is here now — calm and peaceful and healthy, and a smile immediately frames his lips. He let his knuckles skim ever so gently over his cheeks, before wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing himself closer to him. He can feel Jae’s warm breath on his face and his steady breathing was lulling him to sleep, the sweater he had claim from Jae’s closet wrapped protectively over his smaller body.

It was during these moments where Wonpil would lean in, nose gently nuzzling into his boyfriend’s cheeks before placing butterfly kisses all over his face. And he would do it again and again, until sleep finally overtakes him, with Jae’s serene sleeping face the last thing on his mind.

 

Jae has a long list of things he doesn’t like about himself, but to Wonpil, it’s a long list of things that made him love him even more.  

 

 

.


End file.
